


The Greater Good

by ELG



Category: Stargate Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, Comfort Sex, M/M, Spit As Lube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-14
Updated: 2012-11-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 19:25:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4799441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ELG/pseuds/ELG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greer comforts Scott as Chloe seems likely to be lost to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Greater Good

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ankh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ankh/gifts).



Training a new lieutenant was no task for the faint-hearted. Luckily, Greer was fearless. He was surrounded on _Destiny_ by people who insisted on over-complicating their lives when really life was far simpler than anyone else wanted to admit. He had signed up to be a soldier with the clear-eyed awareness that he would be called upon to sacrifice himself for the greater good. If he survived, he did. If he didn’t, he didn’t, but his likelihood of survival had no impact on his response to the demands of duty. If something needed to be done and he could do it, it was already done, whether it would kill him or not. What made life messier than it needed to be was other people not playing their part.

Quite apart from his obligation to him as master sergeant, Greer had let himself get fond of Lt. Scott. Scott also understood duty and chain of command and he was brave and selfless and willing to sacrifice himself for others. In that way, he understood the rules and played by them. His weakness came in being too damn nice. Of course, that could be a strength. Greer still thought holding a loaded gun to Rush’s twisty head was as good a way as any to get him to do the right thing, but he had to admit his threat had bounced right off him whereas Scott breathing that ‘Please…?’ had got under his defenses somehow. Chloe, Eli, and Scott all seemed able to get to Rush in ways that a loaded gun just couldn’t although even then that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be willing to sacrifice one or all of them if the mission or the ship required the sacrifice to be made.

Greer liked to think that Scott could ‘Please…?’ him to the end of time, even with tears in his eyes, and he wouldn’t give way. An order he would follow, unquestioningly. He didn't need explanations or apologies, an order was all it would take, but not an appeal to his better nature. That wasn't how things worked. He wasn’t so sure about Colonel Young, though. There was no denying there was a father-son thing going on there. He’d heard rumors that Daniel Jackson’s multiple PhDs had sometimes been of less use on a mission than his ability to make people give in to him, not least General O’Neill, but that wasn’t an asset you could quantify; there were too many factors to take on board. What if the bad guy was as able to resist the power of some brave but out-of-his-depth hero looking sad and lost as easily as Greer himself? Definitely not a reliable asset.

He rounded the corner and found Scott standing outside his quarters looking just as out-of-his-depth and sad and lost as he had been picturing him. Greer sighed inwardly. _No, you can’t go and comfort your girlfriend when she’s now unstable, infected by alien DNA, and five times stronger than you are, Lieutenant_. 

Eli, if no one shut him up in time, would start spewing comic book talk, some of it about the questionable dynamics of super-powered beings screwing ordinary humans: Superman and Lois Lane, the Phoenix Force and Scott Summers.

Perhaps it was them sharing a name but that last allusion had got under Greer’s skin a little. He didn’t actually give standing room to nonsense but when Eli was burbling on about how the Phoenix Force that had lost itself so completely that it had devoured a planet to have an orgasm had been banging hapless mutant Cyclops in the bedroom every night and how lucky he’d been not to get himself accidentally incinerated, Greer had found himself thinking about Chloe slamming their Scott around in the bedroom, maybe choking him into submission before she did strange, alien-inspired things to him on the bed. It bothered him – a lot – that it bothered him so much.

He gritted his teeth because he didn’t do this – let his mind stray. He didn’t let dumb thoughts get to him. He wasn’t Young and he wasn’t going to let himself lose his edge or his judgment when the lieutenant he happened to be training got himself into trouble.

It just flickered through his mind – a vivid memory of Rush calling Scott out on his daddy issues and Greer just losing it, while Scott, ironically, hadn’t even noticed, either the insult or Greer’s over-protective response, too busy gazing after his will-o-the-wisps in the burning white sands. It was what a good master sergeant did – looked after his lieutenant. It didn’t mean Scott was turning him soft.

Except, damnit to hell, now Scott was looking at him woefully, as if Greer alone could fix this, but no one could fix this, it just wasn’t fixable, not the way Scott wanted. What Greer could do was stop Chloe killing her boyfriend, and then put the girl out of her misery before she turned into something she didn’t want to be. He could do that for her. There wasn’t much he could do for Scott except keep him safe.

Scott said, “I want to be with her. She shouldn’t be alone –”

Greer found himself taking him by the elbow and pushing him into his quarters then closing the door with slightly more force than necessary.

“That isn’t happening.” He faced him down. “It isn’t what she wants. She wants you kept safe. She wants you kept safe from her most of all. If the thing she’s turning into kills you or…something else’s you, how do you think what’s left of Chloe is going to feel…?”

“‘Something else’s’ me?”

Greer sighed inwardly. Sometimes it was all he could do not to say aloud: _How can you be so damned young?_ Even Eli was seeming like more of a grown-up these days. That poor kid had suffered hard and toughened up. Scott just seemed to stay as innocent as ever, and as willing to sacrifice himself for people whose multiple flaws he still didn’t seem to have noticed. Sometimes when Rush and Young were fighting, Scott looked like the kid stuck in the middle of a particularly vicious divorce, dismayed and bewildered by the strength of their tempers. That had used to be Eli’s role, too, but Eli was at least growing up enough to learn how to act out. He’d pretty much reached his teenage rebellion phase, even if it was a little late. Scott wasn’t even there yet.

He thought about how that could have been Scott’s arm broken in three places, about Scott sneaking into Chloe’s room some night and her losing who she was when she was alone with him and doing things to him that didn’t bear even thinking about. For some reason his hand was touching Scott’s chest, then climbing higher, slowly, until he was tracing the bony ridge of his collarbone. A man could work out all he liked on _Destiny_ , run and do sit ups and press ups and keep himself fit, but it was hard to hang onto any body fat when there was never enough food and half of the missions seemed to involve them getting charbroiled under a pitiless alien sun. He could feel that bone and it was so fragile. One rough shove and Chloe could break him.

Scott said, “Greer?” But he didn’t move away, he moved a little closer. He didn’t know what comfort it was he wanted. Being Scott, he probably didn’t even know he wanted comfort at all. He just knew he didn’t want to move away when Greer touched him and his body language was already changing from wretched to slightly less distressed.

Greer said, “I know it’s hard for you to give me orders. I’m older than you and stronger than you. I have years more experience and I know more about being a soldier than you probably ever will.”

“Great pep talk,” Scott said, still moving towards the man’s hand touching him.

“But being an officer isn’t just about doing the right thing. Sometimes it’s about the right thing being the wrong thing and having to do it anyway. Sometimes, you have to get your hands dirty.” Scott stepped back, the abandoned look back on his face again and Greer sighed inwardly. “Or at least let someone else get his hands dirty on your behalf. When was the last time you slept, Lieutenant?”

As Scott just went on looking lost, Greer took a firm step forward, cupped his face in his hands and kissed him. What Scott should have done, of course, was push him off, ask him what the hell he thought he was doing, and then probably, being Scott, say something about them forgetting this ever happened and never speaking of it again. On a better day he might even have done that, but today he closed his eyes and opened his mouth and melted into the kiss.

Greer found himself kissing him much too gently, teasing his lips with his, the most delicate flexing of tongue into a mouth that just opened right up to him, not an ounce of resistance anywhere. Damnit to hell.

Greer said sternly, “I can make you feel better for an hour or so, Lieutenant, but at the end of it we’re still going to be stuck on this damned ship and nothing is going to be solved.”

When Scott looked up at him his lashes looked a little damp, his eyes were the gray-blue of a somber fall sky, his lips were still parted from their last kiss, and Greer felt just a twinge of something in his gut that might have been fellow feeling with Rush and Young for every time they had suddenly lost their armor plating because of Scott willing them to be better, kinder men. All he was doing here was some comfort therapy. He was not going to get emotionally lost.

“An hour or so of feeling better is half a lifetime on _Destiny_ ,” Scott said.

Scott sucked at relationships, of course, Greer remembered that now. Eli had said that he was different from comic book Scott there, or rather, comic book Scott sucked at relationships, too, but that was because he was a repressed, kinky masochist who didn’t know he was a repressed, kinky masochist, and so acted like an emotionally unavailable uptight prude, driving all the women who got involved with him to crazy, rapey weirdness.

“Whereas our Scott does at least know he has a libido.” Eli had trailed off, frowning. “Unless women just…make him give it up.”

It had never occurred to Greer until that moment that James might have pulled Scott into the broom closet instead of the other way around. He grimaced, and decided that wasn’t how it had gone down. Scott had been the instigator. He was an eager participant, not a passive recipient, when it came to sex. He had gotten a girl pregnant when he was sixteen. That showed a healthy curiosity. Not to mention a good sperm count. And a certain lack of basic common sense, forward planning, and ability to act prudently when his hormones were engaged.

“If I push you down on this bed, right now, and do my damnedest as your sergeant, and a man trying to look out for the best interests of the people on this ship, to get you into a better frame of mind for what the future may hold, are you going to be okay with that tomorrow?”

Scott was already undressing. “I’ll tell you tomorrow,” he said.

It did just briefly occur to Greer that semi-alien Chloe and a trained soldier with a gun both being on his case should they find out about his idea of therapy for an unhappy Scott might seriously shorten his life expectancy. James had been fine with Chloe but she’d at least thought about cracking Scott’s skull. Women had that tendency to blame men rather than other women for everything, so Chloe might get a pass for getting Scott naked and sweaty but that didn’t mean that Greer would. On the other hand getting his life expectancy shortened was pretty much what he did for a living. This was no exception.

He pushed Scott down on the bed and it did give him pause how much stronger he was than him. He grimaced.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said.

Scott looked up at him with a slight frown creasing his forehead. “I never thought you would,” he said.

“You know there’s a reason we don’t let Lieutenants out without a keeper,” Greer said grimly.

“I don’t always tell you how much I appreciate you looking out for me and backing me up, but I do notice how many times you’ve been there when I needed you.”

Greer remembered Scott splayed out in the sand and his heart tightening with fear as he thundered down that white dune to reach him, so afraid he might be dead, fingers fumbling a little as he tilted his head up and poured that life-saving water down his throat.

“I’m in a relationship,” he said firmly. “This isn’t that.”

Scott said, “Okay.”

His eyelashes had no business being that long but he had the makings of an excellent officer if Greer could just keep him alive enough to grow into his potential and get him to toughen up a little.

“Being pretty isn’t your fault,” he said. “No rational guy is going to blame you for that. Don’t let people tell you that they’re looking at your mouth when you’re giving orders when they should be listening to what you have to say. You can’t let people get away with crap like that.”

Scott looked bewildered. “No one has ever said anything like that to me.”

Greer said, “Good” a little too firmly. He kissed him again, and he had meant to be just as firm with that but his mouth just kept brushing his lips, so gently, tender and coaxing. He pulled off his jacket and then unzipped himself; undressing he at least managed to keep brisk and professional.

Scott was gazing up at him now. “You have beautiful eyes,” he said.

“None of that,” Greer told him, still firmly. “This isn’t about getting mushy. It’s just…physical therapy to get you through a rough patch. This is for the greater good.”

“Okay.” But now Scott was touching him with way too much reverence, fingers tracing the muscles of his arms and the hard ridges of his abdomen, and then he was leaning up, unexpectedly, to kiss his way around his navel, and Greer was having to breathe hard.

“If you keep doing that, Lieutenant, I am not going to be able to answer for my actions,” he said, and his voice was the kind of rough growl that made scientists quake. But, of course, Scott was a soldier so he just let the warning jolt into him harmlessly, like a hollow point into Kevlar. 

Scott was licking his skin now, mouthing it harder, curious and completely engaged. Definitely not a passive participant when it came to sex. He kissed down, kissed down further. Greer would have grabbed him by the hair to stop him if he’d had enough hair to grab hold of. It was the first time he’d ever seen a downside to a buzz cut. 

“If you do that I’m going to…”

“What?” Scott was breathing on his cock now, quite deliberately trying to get him hard. “Fuck me? I thought that was the plan?”

Mutual masturbation had been more what he had in mind. He hadn’t actually thought about… And – damn it – now it was difficult for him to think about anything else. Scott warmed the head of his cock with his mouth, much too good at finding the slit with his tongue, then flicking him just right before sucking his way along the vein. Gritting his teeth, Greer counted to ten slowly while Scott got him hot and bothered with a mouth that was way too good at this. He was not going to ask if he was the first guy to get naked with his lieutenant; quite apart from anything else, that was none of his business. This wasn’t about over-sharing and they didn’t need to know each other’s life stories. There was no reason not to keep the links of chain of command impersonally bright and shiny even in the bedroom.

Scott briefly lifted his mouth from his cock to say, a little indistinctly, “You know you don’t have to do this, right? That I’m not giving you an order?”

It said a lot for his training that Greer didn’t roll his eyes. What he did do was haul Scott up a little roughly and shove him down on his back on the bed. As he straddled him, he knew his expression was saying ‘Like you could make me do a damned thing I don’t want to do.’ But he kept the words back behind his teeth.

Still blithely oblivious, Scott said, “Unless you want me to make it an order so you have…plausible deniability for Colonel Young…?”

Very still now, Greer said, “Colonel Young never finds out about this. Ever.”

Scott blinked, eyes still unnecessarily pretty. “He was okay with me and Chloe.”

“You don’t know a damned thing about fathers and sons, Lieutenant.” 

“Well, what am I missing?” Scott didn’t really play the tragic orphan card so he didn’t add: _Having lost my parents when I was four years old and my substitute father to a death he chose over me when I was barely sixteen_.

“That they don’t make any sense and they never will.” 

They were the Rubik Cube you could never get to come out, however hard you tried. The only thing more inexplicable than the lingering infection of your love for them, whatever they did to you, was their equally inexplicable love for you. It didn’t stop them hurting you. It didn’t stop them turning you into a guy with anger management issues so bad he could barely rein them in or a guy who was going to spend his life trying to please stern father figures for scanty crumbs of praise, but it did hurt them, somehow, just as much as it hurt you. 

“Now be quiet and let me do this.”

He sometimes had competitive issues, he knew, but just because Scott had sucked a lot less than he had anticipated at sucking that didn’t mean he couldn’t show him a few things. It had nothing to do with wanting to make sure the Lieutenant knew his place or that there was still a lot to learn from his master sergeant. Well, okay, maybe it had a little to do with that…

“Ohmygod…” Scott writhed and arched his spine and probably beat himself up about blaspheming as Greer firmly pushed his hips back down.

“Be quiet,” he warned. “The last thing we need is Eli sending a kino in here.”

Scott choked down his moans and whimpers while Greer pulled him further down the bed, and then reached up to clamp a hand over his mouth as he played him like a fiddle. He wasn’t going anywhere near the way Scott was getting off on Greer holding him down or the way it was making Greer harder even than Scott’s mouth on his cock had done to pin him to the bed like this. A young, inexperienced guy spent his days having to give orders to an older, more experienced guy – they dealt with it the way professionals did but that didn’t mean there wasn’t still a little pushback.

Scott came with a bang and a whimper – a breathless, agonized, unbelievably satisfying whimper – and Greer licked him clean in a way that tried hard not to be smug. Businesslike, that was the adjective he was going with here, definitely businesslike. Scott was still panting, sweaty and boneless on the bed.

“That enough for you?” Greer asked, face a perfect blank.

Scott opened his eyes, still trying to catch his breath even though he could run ten miles straight with a full pack if he had to. “No,” he said. And, still breathing hard, he rolled over onto his front.

Greer’s turn to have to reach for his self-control. And he couldn’t even complain about mixed signals or crossed wires. Scott was being as straightforward as a man could get.

And there were ways to do even this with minimal touching but somehow he was weakening the closer he got. When he reached for Scott’s hips, his fingers were way too gentle; the bones looked so fragile, he thought of this body being hurled through the gate, nearly dehydrating in the desert, of it sacrificing itself for the rest of them in a different time line, being injected with venom, writhing with pain, and before he could stop himself he was kissing his way tenderly down the knots of his spine. 

And he’d known it would be like this – Scott too damned responsive to kindness, trying not to betray how much this meant to him even though Greer was too close not to hear the breaths snagging in his throat. He reached around to stroke a thumb across his nipple and Scott gave a gasping sigh and then the fingers of their left hands were interlocking, as if this had always been the way this was going to go. 

The only things in this room that weren’t rationed were saliva and consideration, so he used plenty of both and his slow push in met nothing from Scott but a sigh. Not a wince, not a flinch. Just a long, slow sigh like he hadn’t known how much he needed this until now. He didn’t even tense up, just stayed as relaxed as if he were floating in a warm bath, and perhaps Greer was being too mushy here: nuzzling into the scent of his sweat-beaded skin, tongue, then fingers, then cock just nudging their way home so carefully, but he had promised not to hurt him and he was a man of his word.

He fucked Scott gently on that Ancient bed no Ancient had ever slept in and wondered if _Destiny_ was watching this, if the ship was learning from them, if it wanted to keep them safe, wanted to save them, or if they were too brief a blip for it even to register. What were they compared with a star system? They were mayflies. But they were beautiful mayflies and in this moment as he felt them moving together like the moon and the tide, he was still ready to kill anyone he had to kill for the sake of the mission or to lay down his life unflinchingly if it would save one civilian life, but in the meantime he was going to savor this. Whatever this was: this sweet stretch and tender ache and soft, soft brush of Greer’s lips down Scott’s spine, a kiss to match each thrust connecting him and Scott, he was going to savor every second of it like the last few notes of an unfinished symphony.


End file.
